


What the water gave us

by did_you_reboot



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Crack Relationships, Crack Treated Seriously, Elezen Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Fluff, Multi, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26346496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/did_you_reboot/pseuds/did_you_reboot
Summary: ~* let the only sound be the overflow *~Compilation of things for the ffxivwrite2020 challenge. Most will likely be related at least tangentially to things inAfter Everything.
Relationships: Nero tol Scaeva/Warrior of Light, Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Nero tol Scaeva/Warrior of Light, Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 19
Kudos: 33





	1. crux

**Author's Note:**

> hey friends! most of these will probably be at least tangentially related to the goings-on in [After Everything](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557385), so if you somehow don't have a massive backlog of fic to read, have a peek at it :)
> 
> some of these are likely to find their way into Yuán or Fundamentals of Allagan Engineering in some form, so if you happen to follow those and think you've read the thing before, it was probably in here!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a day off with emet-selch, hythlodaeus, and the fourteenth

## 1\. crux

Traipsing through the forest with Hythlodaeus and Athena wasn’t the _first_ thing Hades would have suggested as an activity to do on the day their busy schedules finally aligned for a whole day of leisure. He liked most forests well enough, and he even liked hiking well enough, mostly because it was enjoyable time spent in the company of those most dear to him. And indeed, it was hiking that Athena usually took them out to do when forests were involved.

Usually.

There was always a small chance that their outing was something quite a bit more than a mere hike. It had been quite a while since their last “exciting activity” as she liked to call it, and Hades had _almost_ forgotten that she was overdue for one.

And this lapse in judgement was how Hades now found himself panting in a tree high above the forest floor. 

“ _Remind me again why we aren’t using our magicks?_ ” he snapped at the people standing on a cliff edge across a dizzying gap who allegedly loved him but left him there on the branch by himself.

“If we disrupt the local aether, you won’t get to see what I want to show you! Come on, you’re almost there, Hades!” Athena called. “This jump is the biggest one but I know you can do it!”

“We’ll not let you fall, Hades!” Hythlodaeus added cheerfully, but Hades wasn’t so sure he liked that tone...

Hades let out a noise of mingled frustration before slowly letting go of the massive tree trunk—whatever it was she wanted to show them had better be worth the trouble. He carefully found his footing on the branch he stood on and steeled himself for the jump: it was just far enough that he would need a running start, and he supposed it was a small comfort that he was not wearing the customary, billowing robes of the city, which would surely catch the wind and send him tumbling down to the forest floor…

He ran as fast as the bough would allow—

And leapt—

And halfway through he realized with horror that he may fall just short—

A pair of hands quickly snatched him from his premature descent—his knee buckled as he was awkwardly pulled forward and he lost his balance, sending him and his rescuers tumbling into a heap—

Athena was, as always, first to let out her effusive, unrestrained laugh as they lay there in the dirt,  
and next, as always, came Hythlodaeus’s slower laugh that seemed to rumble in his chest,  
and, as always, his laugh was last, coaxed out of him by the contagious sounds of his companions—

And soon they were on their feet again, ready to continue on to whatever it was Athena dragged them out here to show them.

“We’re nearly there,” said Athena as she began leading them northward. “Both of you can probably see it already.”

Now that she made mention of it, Hades cast his eyes about for what she could be talking about. He quickly found what must be their destination: a gentle, swirling pool of aether not far from where they jumped. Such pools were short-lived and quite rare—existing in a delicate balance for mere days before they were swept up once again by the currents of the Underworld. It explained why Athena had forbidden magicks on their approach; any fluctuations in the local aether could destabilize the pool before they could take a look at it.

“How ever did you find this without destroying it?” asked Hythlodaeus in surprise. “When were you last here?”

“It’s fortunate I decided to climb up here the other day,” she replied. Hades had a passing impulse to ask her just what she was doing climbing up here without magicks, but he resisted—it wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to forgo magicks in favor of more physical challenges.

As they reached the crest of a hill, Athena slowed and turned to them with a smile. “Just over there. I think you’ll like it,” she said.

Hades and Hythlodaeus peered down into the small gully just down the hill, and Hades’ eyes widened in awe at the sight of it. He had only seen one such pool of aether once before, and not in an area as full of life as what he saw now: the life in the area was saturated with aether, with flowers and grasses and trees and even the water and air twinkling brightly along their aetherial lines because of it—so much so that the area would glimmer even without his gift of Sight.

“It’s beautiful,” he said, smiling. Hythlodaeus nodded in agreement.

“It is. Thank you, Athena.”

“I thought you’d like it.”

And together, the three of them stayed to watch.


	2. sway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a busy day for the fourteenth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so this is the fourteenth (fandaniel) from Saudade/Yuán, which i'd started way way way before 5.3. it doesn't really make a difference here, but i just wanted to set expectations so you don't imagine our new friend from 5.3.

## 2\. sway

When the Conservator was working, she was cool and collected—unflappable. When her Bureau was responsible for responding to various crises and calls for help around the city, Fandaniel _had_ to be. She was neither cold nor aloof, but she had no patience for the nonsense she herself got up to in her off-hours. This demeanor remained so long as she was in the presence of any Convocation member that wasn’t Emet-Selch, or out in the public eye.

And tonight—the night of the Convocation’s monthly dinner—this demeanor stayed long after one of the busiest days her Bureau had in a long time.

Hades watched as she related the tale of her day to Lahabrea and Igeyorhm, cool and collected as though one of the research institutions hadn’t accidentally flooded the commercial area around them with tainted water-aspected aether due to their lapse in waste-disposal protocols. It had been disastrous enough to require her personal assistance mending everything that had been tainted by the waste, and disastrous enough that she had immediately summoned Emmerololth’s people to have them find what had gone so wrong in the institution’s chain of command. 

An outside observer might have thought Fandaniel was merely inconvenienced by this veritable disaster from the way she was telling the story.

It wasn’t until hours later—after the food and a few rounds of drinks and the usual grumbling about their jobs that inevitably occurred—that the Work Time Fandaniel began falling away as she and Hades made their way home. She was swaying ever so slightly, enough so that he kept an arm hooked around hers to keep her steady. There was something ailing her, a fact which became more and more obvious the closer they got to their home.

And finally, with the threshold of their home crossed and the door shut to any potential observers, Hades helped Athena to the sofa and she gratefully dropped into it with a _whump_.

“What’s wrong?” he asked worriedly.

She pulled her mask off and lowered her hood and it was then that he noticed the bluish-purple blotches on her skin near her collarbone; he pulled her collar to examine it and found that the blotches continued onto her shoulder and lower abdomen. The bluish tinge was a clear indicator of healing magicks that must have mended any injury from the tainted aether. But while the magicks were potent, the healing didn’t happen immediately, least not from injuries from something like contact with tainted aether.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he demanded.

Athena smiled wearily and shrugged. “We had to go to dinner tonight,” she said simply.

“It was just dinner—you should have just come home to rest!” 

She winced slightly at his words—something she would never do if they weren’t alone—and laughed. 

“I enjoy having dinner with everyone.”

“There will be more dinners, Ath—ah!” He let out a noise of surprise when she tugged his wrist enough to overbalance him into the sofa, and when he fell, she was immediately upon him with her arms around his waist and a cheek pressed against his chest.

“And let Mitron have the satisfaction of complaining about my absence? I think not,” she murmured. 

Hades laughed as he ran his fingers through her hair. “That’s a lie. You cannot _always_ use Mitron as a scapegoat, my dear.”

She let out a sleepy laugh. 

“No, I suppose not. Nabriales next time, then.”


	3. muster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> blinded to the color.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> future bit for Yuán!
> 
> hades shows annaiette his memory of zodiark suppressing his ability to see the color of her soul, and she doesn't quite understand.

## 3\. muster

Hades woke with a jolt, his heart filled with terror as it pounded in his chest. He couldn’t let that happen again—he couldn’t—he _wouldn’t_ —

“Hades?” 

His eyes found the source of the voice—

There, sitting by the window, the familiar glow that he had once been blinded to— 

The familiar glow he hadn’t _seen_ when it had been right under his nose— 

The relief was immeasurable.

Annaiette stood from her seat by the window and approached, slowly but not hesitantly. As she neared him in his place on her bed, his skin grew hot from embarrassment or shame or both, and a thousand thousand words filled his head but he had no voice with which to speak them. Apologies, explanations—he had the urge to say them all but none felt right in this moment—

She eased herself into the chair at the desk by the bed and slowly looked up to meet his gaze.

“How are you feeling?” she asked. He could see the multitude of questions hidden just underneath the surface of her words, and the careful restraint in keeping them there long enough to at least ensure his wellbeing.

“I’m fine,” was all he managed to say. 

The silence between them felt as an eternity as the Warrior of Light gathered her words. Her subtle furrow in her brow and the pursing of her lips betrayed her struggle to find the right ones. Though she didn’t appear to be angry, it was quite clear that she was wrestling with some level of confusion.

“I don’t understand what happened,” she said finally. “Did Zodiark tamper with your memories or didn’t He?”

Hades let out a shuddering breath and for a fleeting moment he wished he could shrink back and disappear into the bed out of shame and guilt. But this conversation was going to happen eventually, and so it would be foolish to try dodging it…

He pulled himself upright, head bowed, and let out another long breath before looking up to meet her worried and confused and just slightly hurt eyes. 

“He left my memories intact, yes. What He did was more...subtle,” Hades began. His throat felt tight and he swallowed in a futile attempt to loosen it. “You told me once that Hythlodaeus—the shade—told you that the color of your soul was distinct.”

Annaiette nodded slowly. “Yes, something to that effect. And I—I have hazy memories of you saying something like that. Before.”

“The color of your soul is... _unmistakable_ ,” said Hades, and the thought of it—the _sight_ of it there before him—made his heart skip a beat. But immediately the thought of what Zodiark had done to it—to _him_ —reared its ugly head. “Zodiark dulled it and blinded me to it, and I had no idea until I—until Hydaelyn brought me back.”

She furrowed her brow and looked only more confused.

“I’m sorry, I still don’t quite understand. Zodiark didn’t make you forget, but still you—” She quickly stopped herself, but Hades knew her meaning and what she intended to say.

_Still you tried to kill me._

“I...” 

He swallowed again as he desperately tried to gather his words. She may not understand the colors of souls but perhaps an analogy… 

“Think of a ripe tomato and its color. Red, perhaps brilliantly so, the deepest brightest red and you love it so. Now imagine that red dulled in your mind such that it hardly exists as a color—you think back on every memory of every ripe tomato and realize they were actually drab little things...You once enjoyed the color of tomatoes but now you see clearly that they are grey and dull, not nearly as brilliant as you once believed.” 

His own words felt as claws gripping his heart, digging in deeper and deeper the more he spoke—but now that he had started, the words were spilling out of his mouth and he couldn’t stop—

“And you think yourself foolish for ever loving the color of tomatoes so, when they had actually been grey all along—and you think back on every memory you had of these tomatoes and though you loved them, they had lost their luster—but it shan’t be a problem because you know the Lord Zodiark good enough to create a new world where you needn’t concern yourself with the color of that particular kind of tomato—”

Tears were streaming down his face now, and he kept his head bowed and fists clenched as he desperately tried to keep a hold of himself even as the words kept coming—

“And a thousand thousand years later you find a berry that reminds you of those tomatoes but by then it’s a mere curiosity—” 

It was getting difficult to speak— 

“You don’t care to think about the color red anymore because it never existed in the first place, but you find this berry familiar and enjoyable in its own way—” 

His throat was tightening, his voice cracking— 

“And then death finds you and soon after, you learn that those red tomatoes actually _were_ as brilliant as your memories implied and the curious drab berry had been that selfsame shade of red this whole time—”

He felt arms around his shoulders, warm and gentle—

His head cradled carefully into the crook of a neck—

A whispered “ _shh_ ”—

With his shoulders quaking and tears soaking her shoulder,  
with his quivering arms wrapped tightly about her,

with the color that had been lost to him now wrapping him in its brilliance—

Hades cried.


	4. clinch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nero can't hold all these ~~limes~~ feelings.

## 4\. clinch

The Warrior of Light rarely found her way into Nero’s workshop. 

That is, until he had issued her a challenge that had been _mostly_ facetious:

Fix the compact fabrication machine that he hadn’t the time nor care to fix himself.

The Warrior of Light was now nearly three suns into this challenge, spending the days muttering to herself in the corner as she pored over the designs and specifications that he had provided her. She was so engrossed in it that she was completely blind to the fact that he spent some time throughout the day watching her in fascination. The problem with the machine was not trivial, else he would have fixed it himself by now, but neither was it so complex that a competent engineer would have had trouble with it.

But the Warrior of Light, for all her multitude of skills, was _not_ a competent engineer.

Not that he expected her to be, obviously. She was, however, learning enough from the Emperor that she was surprisingly capable of inferring a good many things despite having only the most superficial understanding of the fundamentals. She wasn’t so proud that she would eschew asking him for guidance every so often, though—his skill was unsurpassed by any save the Emperor who had several thousand years of experience over him, so why _shouldn’t_ she ask him for help?

He found himself unexpectedly pleased with this fact.

“Still at it, Annaiette? You are nothing if not persistent,” he said when he arrived on the morning of the third sun of her endeavors. She hadn’t made an appearance in her flat the previous night when he had partaken of another of the Emperor’s lessons, and so he wondered if she had shown up here at some ungodly hour of the night in one of her fits of insomnia.

She merely laughed without turning to look at him, though she did gesture vaguely at his workbench—a muffin was waiting for him, as well as a mug of still-steaming coffee.

“Persistence is about all I have left, I think,” the Warrior of Light chuckled wearily as she busied herself with unscrewing some component from inside the machine.

“And a big sword, I should remind you.”

“Biggest one I could find.”

By the end of Ironworks working hours, Nero was pleasantly surprised to find that she was attempting to run the calibration routines for the device. But judging from the ominous grinding and clicking sounds, it was obvious to him that she had made a mistake or ten in reassembling and aligning the machining heads. The grinding and clicking were quite unpleasant but they didn’t sound terribly serious nor completely unfixable, though he didn’t expect her to be able to recover from this gaffe; he suspected she would need to completely disassemble the inner housing again to realign everything—something she likely wouldn’t realize she needed to do.

He knelt down beside her to examine her work as she muttered to herself with her hands pressed against the outer housing, as though feeling the improper movements of the machine through her fingertips. Truly she was at the end of her rope, then.

“And how fares the Warrior of Light in her work?” Nero asked with a grin. 

The Warrior of Light flashed him a grin in return. “Just a small hiccup in calibration,” she said. 

Though her words were per usual—calm and light with the slightest dusting of sarcasm—her eyes glinted with the familiar, manic desperation of someone reaching the end of their sanity in the face of an insurmountable problem. But there was something about the drive behind them that drew his attention: it was the selfsame drive that made her an unstoppable force of nature on the battlefield—which was all well and good, of course, but to see it applied to _this_ and not the usual summary destruction of technology, eikons, and people…

Nero let out a _hmm_ of interest.

“Tell Hades I’m busy here, would you?” she said, patting his knee before turning back to the faltering machine. He found his skin growing warm at this touch—he rubbed the back of his neck as he got to his feet, and found to his relief that this was enough to force the feeling away.

“There’s no shame in admitting defeat, Annaiette,” he said, grinning as he turned for the door. 

“I will gladly admit it once it happens and not a moment sooner,” came the amused reply. “Have a good night!”

* * *

Nero and the Emperor had dropped in to check on her around supper time, bearing a warm meal in the highly likely event that she was still there and hadn’t taken a break to eat. They were right, of course—she appeared to have finally arrived at the conclusion that she needed to disassemble the inner housing and reassemble it, and was in the midst of doing so when they arrived. Nero looked at her there fixated on her work and couldn’t help but think of Academy students in near-delirium as they pushed to complete some project or assignment in the middle of the night. This was not lost on the Emperor, who made an attempt to convince her to go home using his best disapproving instructor voice, in which he cited the need for rest in order to refresh the mind. But she seemed immune to the power of that particular voice—or at least, was not nearly as affected by it as Nero himself—and neither was she swayed by the Emperor’s next attempt: a kiss planted gently on her lips and a soft, murmured request for her to go home. It was a decent attempt that ultimately failed, although it did succeed in at least giving the Warrior of Light a few moments of pause.

She soon shooed them out and would hear none of Nero’s protests that she was, in fact, shooing them out of his own workshop. 

“I don’t know what you did to her, but she is quite determined,” the Emperor said in amusement as they made their way back to the residential area. “I dare say you’re enjoying this.”

“I will admit that she has...exceeded expectations,” Nero replied with a laugh. “As it turns out, she _does_ know a thing or two about technology despite her regular insistence to the contrary. Which I suspect is your doing.”

The Emperor gave him a sidelong, roguish glance. “You know firsthand what an effective teacher I can be, [my dear].”

It was fortunate that they weren’t far from the flat.

* * *

Nero wasn’t sure what he would find in his workshop in the morning. He half expected to find Warrior of Light passed out on the floor in defeat, or to find her awake and disheveled and further into the delirium.

What he didn’t expect, though, was the sound of a perfectly happy fabricator humming away as it machined a part.

The Warrior of Light sat with her back resting against the wall, her eyes half-lidded and a screwdriver held loosely in her fingers as she watched the fabricator do its work. An array of parts Nero recognized as the results of the calibration validation procedures were carefully arranged on the workbench, beside which sat some sort of fruit pastry. 

She looked up when he entered and her mouth spread into a grin, and she wearily but enthusiastically gestured at the fabricator. “It works now!” she said brightly.

Nero picked up one of the parts on the workbench and examined it—it was perfect and he could find no fault in it or any of the others. He put the parts back in their places and knelt down to examine the fabrication machine as it did its work.

“I must give credit where it is due,” said Nero. “It seems the machine is working just as expected.”

The machine was moving smoothly and he could discern no clicking or grinding, and he noticed with some surprise that some of the parts had a thin sheen on them—had she gone so far as to oil the moving components? It was tidy work, much like her control board repairs; he was so unexpectedly impressed with her work that it took him altogether too long to realize that he had stopped breathing.

“Do try not to be too excited,” she laughed as she stretched, grimacing as her back let out a series of cracks and pops. “Ah well, I’m sure it would have taken you just a day to do yourself.”

His voice seemed to have absconded from him, and his breath remained unmoving in his chest. 

“Well, what do you think? It can’t be more broken than it already was,” the Warrior of Light said with a laugh as she leaned in to get a look at what he was examining. 

He could feel her breath mingling with his. 

And before he could stifle the thought—before he even realized what he was doing—before he could lean back from the face that was only ilms from his—

He pressed his mouth to hers.

She made a noise of surprise and immediately he returned to his senses and pulled back—his idea of asking after the Warrior of Light’s interest _hadn’t_ been to just kiss her without warning—

But as she leaned in further in pursuit of his lips—as he responded in kind with a fervor he hadn’t realized existed—

As the whirring of the repaired machine masked the muffled, heady moans they made as they hungrily kissed there on the floor—

It seemed the answer to the question he hadn’t meant to ask was an unequivocal and resounding _yes._


	5. matter of fact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> local warrior of light is confused. story at 10.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happens soon after the goings-on in the previous chapter~

## 5\. matter of fact

“You seem troubled. Something the matter?”

Annaiette cracked an eye open, glancing toward the table by the window to find Hades’ eyes on her with what looked like mild amusement on his face. She yawned and rolled onto her back, splaying her limbs across the bed and stretching them as far as they’d go, before sleepily rolling back onto her side and curling up with a pillow in her arms. 

“Did you put him up to it?” she murmured into the pillow as she shut her eyes again.

“Put him up to what, my dear?” he asked lazily as the tinkering sounds resumed—he was busy stripping components out of some salvaged Garlean device.

She furrowed her brow and sighed into the pillow. 

“Nero. Did you ask him to do that?” she asked. “To kiss me.”

There was a chuckle of amusement. “Ah, did he now?” was the only reply she got.

She opened an eye again to give Hades a reproachful stare for his lacking answer, but his attention was on the device in his hands. She stared anyways.

“He shouldn’t feel like he needs to pretend to like me.”

“And what makes you think he is pretending?”

Hades’ words gave her pause. It was true that it had all felt genuine enough, but after the fact she had chalked it up to him being overcome with emotion by technological happenings, as was his wont.

“What in the world would he want with _me?_ I’ve nothing to offer him.”

He looked to her and arched an eyebrow. “Doubtful that his aim is to _get_ something from you, except perhaps the opportunity to enjoy your company.” 

It sounded so ludicrous that she let out a noise of frustration and buried her face in the pillow. 

“I thought you liked Nero quite a bit,” Hades said, a hint of a laugh in his voice. “What’s the problem?”

Annaiette exhaled into the pillow before pulling it down just enough to uncover her eyes. “I don’t want him forcing himself because of some notion that he ought to include me.”

The amused smile on Hades’ face grew slightly wider as he worked. “He likes you more than you realize, my dear. I hardly think he is forcing himself—he is Nero, after all, and if he hadn’t wanted to do it, he wouldn’t have,” he said matter-of-factly. 

She turned this fact over in her mind for a few moments, before finally letting out another sigh and burying her face in the pillow once more.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“When am I not?”

A brief pause.

“I don’t think you want me to answer that,” she chuckled into the pillow.

A laugh.

“Ah. Perhaps not.”


	6. nonagenarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> storytime with grandmother.

## 6\. nonagenarian

“Come sit with me, Ranhla.”

“Yes, Grandmother.”

Grandmother hummed in approval as her little one carefully clambered onto the rocking chair and into the spare space left by her thin body, nestling himself into the folds of her shawl as she wrapped her tail around his waist. She opened the well-worn tome in her lap to a page marked with an equally-worn ribbon.

Emet-Selch had observed this family for many many moons now, and he knew the child Ranhla was very fond of this tome. 

So, he leaned in and made sure to give Grandmother an eager look.

Grandmother smiled her kindly smile—the sort that seemed to bring all her wrinkles with it.

“I think tonight I will tell you the story of the time I crossed the sea.”

“Did you really travel across the sea, Grandmother?” Emet-Selch asked. 

Across the sea lay the budding Allag, set into motion by his hand.

“I did,” said Grandmother with a nod. She pointed a knobbly, trembling finger at the drawing in the tome—an ink sketch of a ship in turbulent waters. “I crossed the sea in this ship.”

“Was it a very big ship?”

“It was very _small_ ,” Grandmother said with a thin, reedy laugh. “It was very small and I spent many days seasick. It was worth it, though. Do you know why?”

Emet-Selch shook his head. 

“Do you know, Ranhla, that the stars are more beautiful when you are out at sea?”

Emet-Selch looked up to Grandmother over his shoulder. “How can that be, Grandmother?” he asked.

“When you are in the sea, it is just you and your friends and the stars above you. And the ship rocked like this—” She gently rocked the chair. “—and even though we are very small compared to the very big world, it felt like you belonged to something whole.”

_How laughable. She couldn’t be more wrong_ , thought Emet-Selch as Grandmother put a hand on his head and ruffled his hair.

Her words—the foolish, naive words of the Sundered—struck something in him. Though it wasn’t quite the same—though it was all so woefully flawed and deficient—despite himself, there was something just a bit familiar about these gentle words spoken by this Sundered elder.

He nestled himself further into Grandmother’s shawls as she turned the page.

“After our first week out at sea…”


	7. clamor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a chance meeting with someone in Limsa Lominsa

## 7\. clamor

It was clear from the moment they stepped foot in Limsa Lominsa that Annaiette was ill at ease. While her _words_ indicated she was ostensibly unbothered by their task to retrieve an order at Naldiq and Vymelli’s for Garlond, Hades noticed her eyes darting to and fro as they walked, as though scanning the area for someone. At first he wondered if she was concerned that he would be recognized despite the bandana concealing his hair and third eye, but that was unlikely in Limsa Lominsa and she hadn’t been half this concerned during their short trip to Gridania some weeks ago.

Nothing came of it when pressed, of course; he received the usual “I’m fine!” with the usual accompanying smile, and the usual attempt at deflecting him from the issue by being very enthusiastic about their first stop: lunch at the Bismarck, which was evidently something special if Jessie’s envy was any indication.

The lunch, to Hades’ surprise, was perhaps maybe quite a bit better than he had expected. The food and it’s presentation rivaled that which was served to the Royal Family, and evidently one had to be nearly so in order to secure a reservation. Annaiette had apparently traded a lunch reservation for a week’s worth of work for the head chef, with whom she was friends—it explained her recent absence during the day and the perplexingly delicious scents that had lingered on her skin and clothing when she returned in the evenings.

He thought her worries dispelled after their meal, but her anxiety seemed to return in full force as they left the Bismarck and made for the forge. To his confusion, the Armorer's Guild guildmaster’s request for them to retrieve something from the markets may as well have spiked Annaiette’s anxiety into the sky. But again, his concern was met with the usual “I’m fine!” and an offhanded, unconvincing laugh. He wondered if perhaps she was in some trouble with some local pirate gang or some such, but he couldn’t imagine her being so fearful over something as woefully pedestrian as that, least not when veritable gods had failed to kill her.

“Let’s go quickly,” she said once they retrieved the guildmaster’s goods.

“Annaiette, what—” Hades began as she hooked him by the arm and all but dragged him off.

But a loud clamor caused her to freeze in her tracks, and an air of defeat overcame her—one rivaled only by the utter defeat on her face as she nearly transformed into a Lightwarden.

“Annaiette! _ANNAIETTE, IS THAT YOU?_ ” came a loud voice that somehow cut through the din of the markets.

Annaiette gave him the most dejected, apologetic look he had ever seen, before slowly turning around to meet whoever it was that approached with a smile on her face.

“Auntie!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms wide in greeting at the figure roughly shoving her way through the market crowd.

An older Elezen woman sporting an eyepatch, an exciting collection of scars, and windswept gray hair all but crashed into her, and Hades watched in fascination as the Warrior of Light allowed herself to be crushed by this woman’s arms.

“Why didn’t you say you’d be in Limsa?!” said the woman in disapproval as she all but swung Annaiette back and forth as she clung to her.

“I wasn’t—going to—be here long, Auntie,” said Annaiette whilst she staggered from side to side in her aunt’s grip.

“But I haven’t seen you in _moons_ , Annie! Where’ve you been?”

When the woman finally released her, she gave Annaiette a small punch on the arm. “Couldn’t spare a moment for yer little ol’ auntie, eh?” she said disapprovingly.

“But I sent you a letter!”

“Aye, but that’s a piss-poor replacement for seein’ my only niece in the flesh, innit?” The disapproval on her face lingered for a moment longer before a one-sided grin took its place. “Anyroad, glad to see you’re hale and whole. Who’s yer friend here?”

“Oh, this is—this is Hades,” said Annaiette with a nervous laugh. “Hades, this is my Aunt Celestianne.”

Celestianne crossed her arms and looked Hades up and down with her single eye.

“This yer man, then?” she said with clear disapproval, and though Hades shouldn’t have thought anything of it, he found himself somewhat indignant.

“M-my man? Auntie, I—”

“Look at him, he’s a twig!” Celestianne exclaimed, prodding Hades in the arm. “One good decking from you and you’d prob’ly kill him! How’ve ye not crushed him with those legs of yours?”

Annaiette’s face had turned a lovely shade of red. “A-Auntie!”

Celestianne rounded on her again. “What happened to that Lalafell boy? Or that Viera girl? Now _they_ could take a beating and dish it back twice over!”

“I-it wasn’t _like_ that with them!” said Annaiette hotly. 

This was this first Hades had heard of this Lalafell boy and Viera girl, and he found himself quite interested in learning more.

“As it happens, Annaiette _did_ give me a good decking,” said Hades, and he was only just able to hide his amusement at Annaiette’s mortified face. Celestianne looked him over again for a long, long moment before begrudgingly nodding in approval.

“And you lived to tell the tale? Mebbe yer tougher’n you look,” she said as her lopsided grin returned.

He _almost_ added that he didn’t actually live to tell the tale. But Annaiette looked like she wanted to die on the spot, so he carefully held his tongue.

“Come on, let’s have a couple drinks!” said Celestianne brightly, hooking Annaiette with one arm and Hades with the other as she began pulling them with a strength that belied her thin form. “Since yer here and all!”

“A-Auntie, we’ve got some errands to finish up—” Annaiette started.

“Then why don’t _you_ go finish ‘em and _I’ll_ take Hades here up to the Missing Member,” Celestianne interrupted, releasing Annaiette from her grip and redoubling her hold on Hades.

Hades managed a look at Annaiette over his shoulder as he was dragged away—the same apologetic look had returned, and he caught sight of her mouthing a silent “ _I’m sorry”_ before taking off for the nearest aethernet shard at a sprint.

Celestianne let out the raucous laugh of a seasoned sailor, and in this moment, Hades swallowed and wondered if perhaps he _might_ be in some sort of danger.

“Hahahaha, c’mon boy, let’s see how well you hold yer drink…!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> auntie's dialog inspired by the super awesome [frostmantle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostmantle/pseuds/frostmantle) pls read her stuff i love her 😭
> 
> i'm only doing this challenge because the [book club discord](https://discord.gg/xqc2Ut5) is a bunch of enablers and i love them so if you would like to be enabled then check it out!


	8. lush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> maybe this time he’ll see it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> but Elidibus knows he won’t

## 8\. lush

_“What are you doing here, Emet-Selch?”_

What did it matter to Elidibus what he was doing  
so long as their goal remained in sight?

_“Come, Emet-Selch, you would be better served brooding elsewhere.”_

He shrugged off Elidibus’s words.  
He could brood wherever he pleased.

A sigh.  
“ _Very well. Until later, Emet-Selch.”_

He breathed in.  
  


Green surrounded him.  
The forest was lush and full of life.

He sneered.

The life was wretched, broken.  
The air smelled wrong.

It paled in comparison to what it once was.

She loved it for what it was.

But here he stood.  
Looking.  
Breathing.

He still couldn’t understand why.

  
  


But here he stood.

  
  


Perhaps this time he would understand.


	9. avail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a small request for urianger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this happens early on in Saudade, just after the first time hades uses the Echo. :)

## 9\. avail

“Urianger, do you have a moment?”

From his place at the dining table, Urianger peered up to find the Warrior of Light peering in through the doorway. There was an air of concern about her, which made obvious her intent to make some manner of request.

“Of course,” he said, gesturing to the empty seats around him.

She leaned her greatsword against the wall with a care that betrayed her hesitance, before selecting the chair directly across from him. And though the open tome on the table did naught to obscure her, he shut it and set it aside so as to give her his full and proper attention.

“How is he doing? Emet-Selch, I mean,” she asked. 

“Emet-Selch yet slumbers, though I found naught amiss either physically or aetherially. When he will wake, I cannot say.”

She nodded. Her head bowed just so with obvious weight of guilt over the collapse of their Ascian captive after he mended a small portion of the aether which raged within her. It was his humble opinion that she ought not to feel too guilty about this circumstance; other than his current unconsciousness, Emet-Selch had not been grievously harmed by his use of the Echo.

“Can I ask you a favor, Urianger?” 

“Certainly. What wouldst thou have me do?”

A grateful, relieved smile appeared on her weary face. “Unchain him, please. If anyone complains, tell them I told you to. And...” She trailed off, and it was clear she was unsure of her next request. “And can you...” she continued hesitantly. 

“What dost thou require, Annaiette? If thy request lies within my power, then I would do it for thee.”

“After everything that’s happened, I’m sure this sounds a little mad, but...I don’t want him treated poorly,” she said, and she looked almost embarrassed by this request. “Not that you have been, of course! It’s just that—I know it’s hard enough that he’s here, but I—I don’t want us to be cruel, least of all to someone who can’t defend himself. And I—I thought you would understand best, Urianger.”

Urianger felt a small measure of surprise at the Warrior of Light’s words, and a small swell of pride that it was he whom she would avail for assistance—something which the Warrior of Light did not often do.

“Consider the chains removed,” he said with what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “And ‘tis no trouble to treat Emet-Selch with dignity—he remaineth acquiescent thus far. I may go so far as to say that he has been quite pleasant following our disastrous final encounter.”

Her shoulders visibly relaxed as she smiled.

“That’s good to hear. Thank you, my friend.” 

With a nod, she got to her feet but paused just as she was pushing the chair back under the table.

“Is there aught else, Annaiette?”

“Sorry for the extra trouble, but if I’m not around, can you make sure he’s eating enough?” she asked. “He’s just skin and bones right now.”

“Certainly.”

She smiled gratefully once more.

“Thank you, Urianger.”


	10. ultracrepidarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just a lil modern au with the ironworks crew and one (1) annaiette

## 10\. ultracrepidarian

“Nero, you can’t do that!”

“Of course I can do that, Garlond! What are you going on about?”

As Nero and Cid descended into yet another argument about the game rules, the unfortunate bystanders around the table sighed in exasperation; this was their cue to do something else for a few minutes whilst the pair sorted out whatever in the seven hells was wrong this time. Annaiette gave Jessie a questioning look, to which the latter replied with a shrug before popping a popoto chip into her mouth.

“Happens once every few sessions,” said Jessie once she finished crunching. “One of them will get tired soon.”

Cid was brandishing a rulebook at Nero now.

“I told you, this campaign is _Pathfinder_ this time, not D&D!”

“Well, surely this is the same in both!”

“It’s _not!_ ”

Annaiette got up to find another beer in the fridge and help herself to a slice of room-temperature pizza, and when she returned, Cid and Nero were still going at it, with the latter now furiously pointing at something in the rulebook. She was new to Pathfinder herself, but she was reasonably sure that Nero hadn’t any idea what he was talking about and at this point was merely trying to save face—it was obvious in the way he was fidgeting with his pen. Jessie was involved in the argument now, while Biggs and Wedge busied themselves with games on their phones.

She sat down with a grin. Watching the chaos was almost as fun as actually playing the game.


End file.
